Just Another Case, Just Another Night
by Willow Alex Song
Summary: Johnlock - Lemon and violence including some breath play. John is worried about Sherlock's behaviour but when he finds out why, will he wish he never asked? Not for the faint hearted. Not my characters, all belong to the lovely BBC!
1. Just Another Case

"That's nonsense John, how can you possibly be confused by something like that?"

"What do you mean! One of the only pieces of evidence we have is an unused tooth pick that was left near the scene of the crime. A tooth pick, I may add, we have seen for less than five minutes and you are telling me that I should know who killed Mary Scott already?"

"Yes John. That is exactly what I am saying."

John felt sometimes that Sherlock expected too much of him. John knew he wasn't stupid he was just human and Sherlock, well Sherlock was beyond that. He often wondered if being able to look in to Sherlock's head, even if only for a mere second, would drive you insane or make you realise the complexity of life and how to unravel it. He always came to the conclusion that it would drive you mad as Sherlock wasn't exactly the perfect picture of good mental health.

"Mary wasn't a stupid girl, so a stranger would be out of the question; she would have raised an alarm if she felt she were being followed. This leaves people she knows well. Family is out of the question as her only relative is her mother who was in work. So we have two other possibilities. A friend of the family or someone only Mary knew. Mary hasn't even started her school yet so friends are out of the question, she doesn't like friends, very wise choice. Mary used to stay at her mums every other weekend so it's someone she knows from visiting, people living locally. Probably a neighbour. A neighbour who asks Mary's mum around a lot. She looks after most of his needs and now her daughter is living with her she has no time for him. He is a jealous man who can't have his own way."

There was silence as the minds of the detectives tried to keep up with the fast paced flow of explanation and knowledge. Before anyone had the chance to reply Sherlock slightly sighed and continued.

"He used to smoke. He replaced his habit of smoking with chewing toothpicks. His fingers are yellow from smoking and his gums are cut from the toothpicks. And how do I know all this, is it because I'm brilliant?, well yes I am but also because he is standing over there comforting Mary's mum. Trouser pocket right hand side he has a pocket full of toothpicks, he likes to keep them close to hand. Now can I go? I have a lot to do I'm a very busy man."

Lestrade turns to the officers next to him with a look that said, "You heard the man".

"I'm sorry about him he's just, well..."

"He's Sherlock. I've known him longer than you John, he's always like that,"

John shakes his head and walks back up the wooden path.


	2. And then the tables turned

John looks out of the taxi's window onto the hustle and bustle of the people outside on the streets of London. Why was Sherlock so, well, distant? Sherlock was an odd character yes but his actions and manners had changed, he seemed like he was trying to distance himself.

The taxi slows down and stops outside 211B. John turns around to look at Sherlock hoping that maybe for once Sherlock would pay for the taxi, especially since this taxi driver hadn't tried to kill them but alas he had already left, his coat sweeping behind him.

Sherlock paces up and down in the flat. His face concerned and bewildered. There was something troubling his mind, something he couldn't bear to face. John's heavy footsteps can be heard as he walks up the stairs. Thoughts rush through Sherlock's mind. He knew that John had just announced he was now in the room and that he had to pay for the taxi again but all Sherlock could think was why? Why now?

"Sherlock? What's wrong? You look ill or something. I'm here for you, know that. I wasn't going to say anything but you seem distant. You look, oh I don't know….well actually you look angry and scared. You never look scared. I'm concerned about you. Now you can either tell me what's wrong or ignore me either way I'll still be here."

Sherlock stops dead in his tracks. He turns to John to reveal a pursed smile.

"John, you are a complete and utter idiot. I have never met such a pathetic, emotionally controlled, deplorable human being but for some strange, peculiar, execrable reason…..I can't get you out of my mind."

John looks to the ground and rubs his eyes.

"I don't understand. Of course I'm going to be on your mind you live with me for chrissakes but that doesn't mean you have to be such a moody git. Stop throwing all your anger and aggression at me I'm just trying to help you."

Before John can even look back up to face Sherlock he finds he is pinned up against the wall. Sherlock's hand firmly grips around John's neck. His eyes gleam. All he could feel was the power, the control, the feeling, oh god the feeling. John's useless attempts to take in air, his feeble screams lost under Sherlock's fingertips.


	3. Leave

Something clicks in Sherlock's mind as he realises what he doing. He loosens his grip around John's neck and turns around so he has his back to John's weakened body. John gasps for air and firmly holds onto the wall to try and steady himself as the rush of oxygen makes him feel giddy.

"What….wha…..what the hell Sherlock? You could have killed me. Please, tell me what is wrong with you? I haven't seen you like this before."

Adrenaline rushes through Sherlock's body. His whole anatomy shakes as he tries to calm down and control himself.

"Leave."

This single word is forced from Sherlock's mouth. He didn't want to say it but now, after what just happened, he knew he had to.

"No. I'm not going. Actually, I don't care if you kill me because I know for a fact it'll be a lot easier than tippy toeing around you when you are like this. Yes I'm an idiot compared to you I don't understand the complexities of life or how a bloody toothpick can lead you to a killer but what I do know, one of the only things I do know, is that I've never loved somebody as much as I sodding well love you. There, happy now?"

Silence fills the room. Sherlock stops his shaking body and tries to think of what to say and for once in his entire existence he was speechless. John closes his eyes and sighs deeply.

"I mean….I….Oh god Sherlock, what have I done? I'll go, of course I'll go."

John shakes his head in disgust and disapproval of what he had just declared. All that he could think in those few brief seconds is "Well done Watson, you complete idiot. Now he knows, now it'll never be alright."

Before John can even step out of the flat Sherlock grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him in close. His hands seize John's body imprisoning him within his arms. The two men, both surprised about what Sherlock had just done look into each other's eyes. For once they both see the longing, the passion, the need for each other and most importantly that Sherlock wanted power once again.


	4. The Angels

A matter of seconds pass, the tension builds between the two men. Their heavy breathing is now in sync.

"John, I told you to leave."

Sherlock's lips tremble as he mutters these words. John finally realises after all this time, this time of hidden desire, what he wanted Sherlock to do to him and he wanted it now.

"I know you did and I told you I wasn't going and I'm not."

Both of them hadn't a clue what to do next. Still frozen, eyes locked, the two men looked like embracing angels. But tonight was not the time to be angels thought Sherlock; this is the time to feel alive, to feel what he always longed to feel.

The detective's hand slowly slides up John's back; nimble fingers weave between the short strands of his soon to be lover's blonde hair. Now nothing could be done to save John, it was too late for him.

Sherlock plunges forward his lips pressing firmly against Johns. Dry lips soon made moist as their tongues intertwine and lips lock in blissful bursts. John has his eyes closed, he never wants to forget this moment, he never knew this moment would even exist until a few minutes ago. Sherlock on the other hand has his firmly open. He felt the kiss. He felt the pleasure in his aching bones but not as much as when he had his hands around John's neck instead.

John pulls away and breaks Sherlock's trail of thought.

"Ouch! I'm bleeding. For chissakes you bit me! Calm down a bit we've only just started."

The blood forms a single droplet in the corner of John's mouth and rolls down across his pale chin. Sherlock leans forward and without saying a word licks from the base of John's neck up, tasting the blood. John's immediate reaction is one of pleasure. Their lips lock again but this time John sees that Sherlock has is eyes wide open, his hungry eyes. John was willing for Sherlock to control and take his body but that look of hunger made him consider if Sherlock wanted more than that, maybe Sherlock wanted to take his life as well.

The detective pulls back John's head, leaving his hot bare neck open freely to the bites and licks of his tongue. John shivers as Sherlock moves down his body pulling on his shirt to reveal more flesh for him to own with his lips.

John stands there in disbelief. The man he admires, the man who has been his secret love for all this time is there in front of him touching his bare skin, feeling his heart pound at the very sight of him. "This is unreal, this is a dream, it has to be" thought John as Sherlock's hand relinquishes his hair. Sherlock's hand feels the familiar crevasses of John's neck. "It's like a jigsaw," Sherlock tells himself, "my hand, my fingers, they fit perfectly." A gentle squeeze on John's throat sends a wave of ecstasy through his veins.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

John becomes nervous now, is Sherlock going to hurt him? Has he left himself too vulnerable? Then a confused and distant voice comes from within him. "You want it John, you like it, let him take you, let him own you." This concept, this internal realisation, makes John lose control of his own body's actions and his legs give way a little. This is not unnoticed by the consulting detective, he uses this opportunity to practically throw him onto the sofa. John's head smacks against the wall leaving him a little dazed and confused but soon he realises what has just happened to him. Sherlock takes off his long coat and carelessly throws it across the room where it delicately lands on the table covering the stacks of books and John's laptop.

"Well this is going to be fun" Sherlock smiles

His long slender body and cherub like curled hair stand before the bundle of fear and excitement that is John Watson.


	5. Mrs Hudson Calls

"Sherlock! … John! … Are you okay? Inspector Lestrade is here to see you." Comes the dithering voice of Mrs Hudson.

It was over; Sherlock had missed his opportunity to feel alive. He realised that John would probably never let him get that close again but there was something inside of Sherlock's head that wouldn't go away. Hope. For the first time in a very long while, Sherlock hoped that he hadn't frightened John too much. He didn't want him to leave or say no to him the next time.

"Sherlock? John? I said Inspector Lestrade is here. Can he come up?"

"Yes, of course he can Mrs Hudson."

Sherlock continues to stare at John; the both of them seem frozen in time, both repeating what just happened in their minds.

The footsteps on the creaking wooden stairs reassure John. He had been saved from this new unfamiliar Sherlock. This man who was intending to use him as some sort of sexual tension stress doll. This was not the Sherlock that John had grown to love and fall in love with but at the same time this new Sherlock seemed… better, more human. He knew what he wanted and he was willing to take it even if it meant hurt, even if it meant John slumped on a sofa half conscious, shaking with nerves.

"What's happened here then? You two had a fight or something? Anyway I know it's late but there's a new case I thought you might be interested."

Lestrade stands there looking back and forth between John and Sherlock. John starts to sit up straight and smiles at Sherlock, waiting for him to say something before the Inspector questioned them again.

"Nothing has happened and your case will bore me, it wasn't a murder, it was a freak accident. I hate that expression. He tripped, knocked over the paint that rolled under the machinery that… Oh... it's too simple to explain just go, you'll work it out in a few hours. You can see how it happened in that one picture from the crime scene."

Sherlock points to the file in Lestrade's hand.

"Now, please leave and don't come back until you actually have something of importance for me to look at. I don't like having my time wasted."

Sherlock pretends to yawn and turns his back on both John and Lestrade. Lestrade looks around the room in disbelief.

"Well thanks Sherlock, you've really helped. I don't know what's going on but I don't particularly like it. I'm going. John, good luck, I don't know how you put up with him you're a better man than me."

"And me." Muttered Sherlock

John tries to take no notice of Sherlock's final comment and quickly ushers Lestrade out of the room with continuous apologies and false explanations for Sherlock's odd behaviour.

Without a sound, Sherlock picks up his coat and hangs it back up in its rightful place. He hears the front door click shut and Mrs Hudson explain that she is going to go out for a bit to "leave you boys to it" and that she hopes John will "keep an eye on him". The door opens and shuts once again.


End file.
